


The Stockman and the Little Bird

by OrangeTabby



Series: Australian Outback Stories [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Australia, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Stockman, australian outback, cowboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25097701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeTabby/pseuds/OrangeTabby
Summary: Sansa Stark is starting a new life in the remote Australian Outback, and freedom from her past beckons.But who was this compelling Stockman sitting by himself at the café?A smutty Australian Outback AU.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Series: Australian Outback Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817686
Comments: 65
Kudos: 209





	The Stockman and the Little Bird

**Author's Note:**

> There is a short glossary of terms at the end of the story, but I’ll put this one here:   
> a Stockman is a farm worker who looks after the livestock, so in this case think of Sandor as a cowboy. 
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/159497572@N07/50080995726/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> The menu is from the Belle Vue Cafe in Warwick, Queensland, where I happened to go for lunch last week and was so delighted to see the Little Bird option listed that I had to take a photo!

Sansa noticed him right away, the big Stockman with the Akubra hat and pale cotton shirt.

Terrible scarring covered half his face, but he was handsome still. His hat hid most of his black hair, but he had thick, dark, stubble on his face. He was large too. In a room filled with big, sturdy country folk, his size stood out.

She wanted to climb him like a tree.

The Stockman was everything Joffrey hadn’t been. She grimaced at the thought of Joffrey. Memories of him were best left back in Brisbane along with her past. Out here was a fresh start, her Outback adventure.

The enormous sky out here had been the first thing that struck her on her four-day solitary drive west from the coast into the red, dusty interior of Queensland. There were always things against the sky in the city. Buildings, towering eucalyptus trees, people. The further her little car took her away from home though, the bigger the sky got until her world just became red, flat earth and massive empty blue sky. The tiny settlement of Wooloonga, where she was due to stop for the night before pushing on to her destination of Bird’s Nest Station in the morning, came as a surprise with its small collection of buildings and houses looking out of place amongst the infinite grey scrub and red dirt.

She was lucky to get a seat in the café attached to the hotel and pub complex. A rodeo was on, apparently, and everywhere swarmed with crowds.

Another change. Sansa wouldn’t have defined this as a crowd back in the city, but after four days of her own company, a couple of hundred people seemed to be a teeming mob.

“Here you go, darl,” the tired looking middle-aged waitress handed Sansa a laminated menu.

“Thank you,” said Sansa, smiling at the older woman, before looking down at what was on offer.

There were a variety of open sandwiches on offer. The beef Stockman, the ham and avocado Havoc, the turkey Big Bird. The Little Bird Sandwich looked particularly delicious, with chicken, avocado, Brie and semi dried tomatoes. That choice would be another post-Joffrey victory since he was allergic to both tomatoes and cheese, and wouldn’t let her eat them in front of him. He didn’t like her eating anything with too many calories either, always watching her waistline in case too much cheese or cake made her in some way offensive to him.

She sat back in her chair and smiled to herself with the freedom and release from stress that a month free of Joffrey had bought her. Freedom to move away from the city, freedom to eat. Freedom to do anything she wanted.

She glanced over at the scarred Stockman, who was staring at her. He tipped his hat at her, and she smiled in return before looking back at her menu.

She ordered the Little Bird Sandwich and a flat white from the waitress. Sansa was dubious about the quality of the coffee out here but was willing to risk it for a caffeine hit.

She sneaked a glance back at the Stockman, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. He appeared vaguely uncomfortable in the crowded café. He was probably more used to the open air of the country, she reasoned.

A large sandwich appeared in front of her, along with her coffee.

“That’s a Stockman for you, darl,” said the waitress as she rushed away.

“Oh but I didn’t,” Sansa started to say, but the waitress had already gone.

She glanced down at her plate, debating between returning the meal and waiting for a new one and just eating it because she was suddenly famished.

A shadow appeared over her plate.

“You’ve got my sandwich,” said a gravelly voice.

Sansa looked up at the looming figure of the Stockman. He was even bigger up close. He held a plate with another sandwich on it.

“And you have mine?” she asked, nodding at the plate he held.

“Aye,” he said, swapping their plates. “You’re fucking lucky I didn’t just eat this one. I fucking love chicken.”

“But a Stockman needs to order the Stockman?” Sansa said lightly.

He shrugged. “I also like beef.” The Stockman and his sandwich turned to go. “Fucks sake,” he said.

Sansa looked over. Someone had taken the Stockman’s seat. Unsurprising in such a bustling atmosphere.

“Join me?” she said quickly. “There’s plenty of room. Pull up a chair.”

He looked her up and down and raised his good eyebrow. “Aye,” he said.

He left his food on her table and disappeared into the crowd, returning a few moments later with a spare chair and a tall glass of water.

“I’m Sansa,” she said once he had settled in

“Call me Hound. Though I think you look more like a Little Bird than a Sansa.”

Sansa speared a slice of avocado with her fork. “Is that so?”

They ate their meals, idly chatting.

“What brings you to the arse end of nowhere?” the Hound asked at one point. “You don’t look like a rodeo bunny, any more than you do a Sansa. No hat for one thing.”

He nodded at her bare head. Sansa looked around. She was literally the only customer not wearing an Akubra hat.

Sansa laughed, determined not to be worried about how out of place she must look with her bare head and floral sundress. “I’m a teacher. I volunteered to do my Outback rotation since they are short of teachers.”

He nodded slowly. “Useful.”

“Are you here for the rodeo?”

He shook his head. “I’m a Stockman, just here for some supplies I ordered. It’s shit here, but better than going all the way to the city.”

They talked for hours, the taciturn man slowly coming out of his shell as she asked questions about his job and life.

It turned out the café had her favourite lemon cakes so she nursed one of those and switched to drinking iced chocolates so she wouldn’t get jittery from too much coffee. The Hound stuck to water, though he did order several lamingtons and ate them with gusto.

It turned out he was, in fact, originally from Sydney but he now preferred spending time alone in the Outback after several tours overseas in the military.

Sansa told him about her fresh start, and how excited she was to begin a better life with her Outback adventure.

She watched his hands as they talked. They were huge and strong, and she ached to feel them on her body.

She stared at the Hound. She was here for a fresh start, a new life. Out with the old, cautious, weak-willed Sansa. In with the new, bold, confident Sansa.

She flung caution to the wind. “I have a room here. In the hotel part. Would you like to come up for a beer?”

He rubbed the stubble on his chin and regarded her. “A beer. What if I said I didn’t drink?”

“Then I’d invite you over for a coffee.”

He looked her up and down. He smiled faintly, pulling at his scars. “Aye I’ll come up to your room. For a drink.”

Arousal shivered in Sansa’s belly. “We’ll need to head back outside, the stairs to the accommodation are at the back of the building.”

The heat hit her again as they walked outside. She’d lived in Brisbane all her life but stepping from air-conditioning into the outside world was always a slap in the face. Her English mother described the humid air on the coast as like trying to breathe soup. At least this far inland it was a drier heat.

The Hound gently touched her arm when they exited the café. “Can I kiss you, Little Bird?” he asked, stepping closer to her.

In response, she stood on tiptoes and kissed him, cupping the good side of his face as she did so.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from kissing such a big, strong man but it wasn’t the sweetness of him carefully cradling the back of her head or of him humming with pleasure as they deepened the kiss.

Someone in the crowd wolf whistled at them.

“Do you have condoms?” he murmured into her ear when they had both pulled back to breathe. “I didn’t come here prepared to fuck any beautiful city girls.”

Sansa gasped, annoyed at herself for being so thoughtless. She’d been so used to being on the Pill with Joffrey that she’d forgotten about condoms. She looked wildly around the tiny town, perhaps hoping shops would spring, fully formed, from the red dirt. “There’s no chemist, is there?”

The Hound chuckled. “This isn’t the fucking city, girl. The General Store will sell some though. Or I could just lick your pretty cunt until you scream.”

Sansa’s knees went wobbly at his words. “Oh,” she said unintelligently. “That does sound nice.”

“Aye it does, but I do fancy wetting my cock in you,” he said, moving into her space again to kiss the crown of her head. “I’ll buy some condoms.”

No one in Sansa’s life had ever said dirty things like that to her before. It was ridiculously arousing.

Joffrey had always described what they did as ‘making love’, when he would use words to describe it at all. She would ask if Joffrey wanted to ‘go to bed’ with her, which she supposed was even less direct.

She preferred the Hound’s approach.

Sansa watched the big Stockman’s Akubra disappear in the direction of the General Store, amongst the crowds of rodeo goers. She wanted him so much that her fingers twitched with the desire to touch him again.

She leaned against the side of the building, pushing her sweaty hair off her face.

A cluster of children ran past, all clutching golden gaytime ice creams. Sansa was oddly relieved to see that the General Store must sell them. They were a taste of her childhood, out here so far away from her previous life, unchanged in all the years since.

Sansa took a long breath of the furnace-hot air, watching the crowd as they milled around. She’d never seen a rodeo before, it must be a big social event, judging by the people here.

The Hound seemed to be taking awhile. What if he changed his mind? Maybe that was a thing here, toy with the city girl then leave her desperately wet and wanting in the middle of the street.

Was this some punishment for her to be so forward? The universe didn’t want her to have a one-night stand for the first time in her boring life?

Anxiety burned in her chest as hot as the air when the sight of the Hound’s Akubra bobbing above the crowds caught her eye.

He had a paper bag in hand, and he came right over to kiss her again.

Relief made her clutch the front of his shirt hard with one hand, and squeeze his shoulder with the other.

“She’s out of your fucking league, mate.” The voice of a passer-by caused them to break the kiss.

“Fuck off, cunt,” said the Hound mildly, looking over his shoulder.

The other man laughed and held up his can of beer as a salute.

“Would you like to go someone more private now?” Sansa’s voice was commendably steady.

“Fuck yes,” he murmured.

Her room in the accommodation wing of the hotel was just a bed and a cupboard and a nightstand. There were shared bathrooms, separate for men and women, with toilets and bathing facilities. The main appeal was the air conditioning, a blissful escape from the oven hot outside.

She shut and locked her door and the Hound pressed her up against it, bending down so he could kiss her.

His kiss stuttered when she gently placed her hand on the scarred side of his face. He pulled back to look into her eyes. She looked back, studying the unusual silver colouring of them, but she kept her hand on the pitted and rough skin of his cheek. He seemed satisfied with whatever he was looking for, because he moved back to kiss her again. Sansa traced his heavy stubble with her thumb. Again the contrast with Joffrey’s golden smoothness. The Hound was all rough skin and hair, calloused fingertips and hard body.

She took a breath and smiled at him, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed and take her sandals off.

He took off his hat and carefully placed it on the nightstand. She didn’t know how he could stand to wear long moleskin trousers, a shirt, and heavy boots. Let alone the hat, though hats were vital in the perilous sun. Even back in Brisbane they were a must in summer.

He sat beside her to kick off his work boots, then laid his huge hand on her thigh, tracing the shape of her through the light floral cotton of her sundress.

She pulled him in for another kiss, then scooted back onto the bed properly and held out her arms towards him. The bed dipped alarmingly with his weight, only being a double. The Hound was clearly built for a King-sized bed and Sansa had the brief but alarming hope that any vigorous activities didn’t break the hotel bed because she couldn’t afford to replace it.

Luckily that thought fled as he lay down beside her and kissed her again. The Hound was nice to cuddle up to, reassuringly solid and pleasingly warm in the slightly chilly air-conditioned air. He didn’t object when she tugged his shirt untucked from his pants and ran her hand up his rock-hard torso underneath his shirt. He responded by slipping a hand under her dress and cupping her bottom, which prompted her to moan and kiss him harder.

As they kissed Sansa realised she didn’t actually know his first name, since presumably he wasn’t named ‘The Hound’ at birth. Oddly though, that was arousing rather than scandalising. She didn’t need to know his name, they were there for sex.

“Any objections to me licking your cunt?” he asked softly.

The increasingly obvious wetness between her legs would indicate that she neither objected to that idea nor the blunt way it was being asked. “No,” she squeaked, “no objections on my part.”

He gave a satisfied hum and slipped his hand underneath the waistband of her underpants. He kissed her again as he ran his fingers through the neatly trimmed curls there and down further into the heart of her wetness. “So fucking wet. You are turned on by an ugly old Hound,” he murmured against her lips.

“You are neither old nor ugly,” she replied as tartly as was possible when someone had their fingers poised to slip inside of you. “It remains to be seen if you are a Hound or not.”

He snorted again and withdrew his hand. Her disappointment was luckily short lived, as he tugged her underpants off, pushed her dress right up under her breasts, and positioned himself between her legs.

“Hounds like to see where they are going,” he rasped.

He opened her with his thumbs and stared down at her most intimate area. She’d never been examined in quite such an intense way.

Joffrey had done this for her a couple of times, but he had made a big fuss about not enjoying it that she’d felt embarrassed and stopped mentioning it.

The Hound leaned in closer to her. She could feel his breath on her. Sansa squirmed, skirting the line between arousal and awkwardness at his intense scrutiny.

“None of that,” he growled, apparently interpreting her movements as embarrassment. “Your cunt is fucking beautiful.”

He bent down the rest of the way and kissed her there, pushing his tongue inside her body the way he’d done with her mouth just minutes ago.

She moaned and arched her back as he did so, moving her hands down to tangle in his hair. He hummed appreciatively as she did, redoubling his efforts to explore her with his tongue.

Eventually he stopped exploring her and focused on her clit, which he located without any apparent difficulty. Sansa didn’t especially want to think any more on Joffrey, but he couldn’t have found her clit with a map and a detailed set of instructions. This Stockman apparently had an excellent sense of direction.

He slid two of his long, thick fingers inside her and he licked at her with unerring accuracy.

She came around his fingers and against his tongue with a load groan, remembering too late that they were in a hotel and it wasn’t soundproofed. Fortunately, she couldn’t also bring herself to care because her entire body felt like it was made of partially-set aeroplane jelly.

She was grateful that he gave her time to come back to her senses, running his rough fingertips over the smooth skin of her stomach and between her breasts but not pressing her any further.

The Hound raised his eyebrow at her when she opened her eyes and looked at him. He seemed to be waiting for her to indicate she wanted to take things further, so she gathered her courage and said baldly, “I want you inside of me.”

He leaned forward to kiss her then, and she tasted herself on his lips. “Can I see your tits first?” he said against her mouth. “I’ll bet they are as beautiful as the rest of you.”

She laughed and sat up so she could tug her dress and bra off, reclining back when she was completely naked. “I want to see you too,” she said.

“Touch them,” the Hound said, nodding at her breasts. “Rub your tits while I get my kit off.”

Previous Sansa would have been self-conscious with that request, but current Sansa was replete with recent pleasure and more than amenable to running her hands over her breasts. She cupped them, circling her nipples with her thumbs as the Hound rapidly undressed with his eyes fixed upon her.

“Perfect,” he said as he undid his shirt and tossed it over his shoulder. “Fucking sexy,” he continued as he pulled off his moleskins and underwear at the same time, letting his penis spring free.

“Oh my god,” Sansa said as she saw it. She had never seen anything quite that… sizeable… apart from in images she’d seen of adult film performers, clandestinely shared amongst her female friends.

“We can take it slow,” he said, moving back on the bed and pulling her into his arms again. “I’ll make you feel fucking good.”

Sansa gulped, but covered her sudden nerves by kissing him again.

He kissed her back but then pulled back and rested his index finger over her lips. “I’m not fucking kidding. If you don’t like my cock inside you, you tell me and I’ll lick your sweet cunt again and you can give me a hand job and let me come on your tits and we both go home happy and satisfied. Deal?”

“Okay,” Sansa said, nodding breathlessly. She reached down to touch him, and he closed his eyes and hissed with pleasure as she took him in hand. It was less intimidating to stroke him than look at him. She did want him still, even if his manhood made Joffrey look like a boyfriend for beginners. The Hound was for experts, which she was not, but she was looking forward to learning.

“Please, I need to feel you inside of me,” she said as reassuringly as she could.

Nodding, the Hound sat back on his heels, a highly compelling and pornographic view. It was only enhanced as he retrieved a condom from the box he had purchased and rolled it into himself.

He positioned himself over her, and bent down to kiss her again. Sansa might have only just met the man, but she could get used to all these kisses. She wouldn’t have picked a taciturn Stockman to be so affectionate, but he seemed to appreciate the intimacy of their kisses. She certainly did.

He pushed into her a little way before Sansa remembered something.

She squeezed his shoulder for attention and when he looked at her, said in a slightly strained voice, “We need to not break the bed.”

He slid inside her a little more. “Noted,” he said, more calmly than she was managing.

He started to thrust, carefully, each time sliding into her further until he bottomed out and paused to look at her face.

“That feels good,” she gasped out, and it did. She had never felt so full and stretched, but it wasn’t painful at all. “Oh god, it feels so good.”

He leaned down to kiss her again, but more sloppily this time, with tongue and teeth as he continued to move in and out of her body.

Sansa wound her legs around his waist and clung to his shoulders, letting him dictate their movements and revelling in the pleasure of it.

He sat back, gently pushed her legs back towards her chest and sped up his movements. “This okay?” he ground out between strokes.

His care over her pleasure was almost as arousing as what he was doing. “Harder,” she said in response. “You’ll make me come again.”

“Fuck yes,” he hissed, speeding up his movements.

The bed banged against the wall, but Sansa couldn’t bring herself to care. White hot pleasure built and built with every stroke, and her moans were continuous. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to be firing, her whole being focused on the slide and thrust between her legs.

“Come for me, Little Bird,” he rasped out, “let me hear you sing again.”

Her orgasm was like nothing she’d ever experienced, shaking and moaning as the Hound thrust and grunted above her. He finished just after her, pushing into her hard and groaning out his own climax before bending down to kiss her again.

She whimpered with the loss of him as he softened and slipped out of her body. He gathered her into his arms after he had tossed the condom into the bin, and she breathed in the clean male sweat of him as she idly ran her fingers through the dark hair on his chest.

“Where are you based?” she asked sleepily, sometime later.

“Bird’s Nest Station.”

Sansa laughed. “No way.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her quizzically. “Aye, that’s where I work.”

“That’s where I’m going,” she said, still giggling, “the Bird’s Nest Station schoolhouse.”

The Hound snorted. “Well that’s a fucking turn up for the books.” He kissed her. “You want to follow me there tomorrow then? The roads aren’t the best for city cars.”

“Yes, but wait. What’s your name?”

He tipped his head back and laughed, raspy and delightful. “Sandor,” he replied, before kissing her again.

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary:  
> Aeroplane jelly – like normal jelly, but Australian and the ad for it has a cool jingle.  
> Akubra hat – wide brimmed, iconic, Australian hat made of rabbit fur felt. Crocodile Dundee wore one.  
> Brisbane – capital city of the state of Queensland, greater Brisbane has a population of 3.6 million.  
> Darl – short for darling. Generic term of endearment that any middle-aged woman will use on you.  
> Flat white – espresso coffee with steamed milk and a tiny bit of foam on top (like a latte, but less foam).  
> Golden gaytime – a toffee and vanilla flavoured ice cream on a stick. Coated in biscuit crumbs. Delicious.  
> Lamingtons – sponge cake rolled in a chocolate (and sometimes strawberry) mixture and desiccated coconut.   
> Moleskins – heavy, brushed cotton trousers.  
> Outback – the huge, utterly remote, interior of Australia.  
> Queenslander – a type of house that typically is timber and often on stilts, with a veranda surrounding it.   
> Station – a sheep or cattle farm, but VERY large. Like, potentially the size of a small European country big. 
> 
> Cultural notes:   
> \- If you were expecting dialogue along the lines of “Crikey!” and “That’s not a knife, THIS is a knife!” then sorry to disappoint but that’s just a movie/Steve Irwin thing.  
> \- 90% of Australia’s population lives within 100km of the coast. So Sansa’s decision to go to the Outback is a bold and unusual one. Most people here in Aus don’t ever go inland, they both live and holiday on the coast, which I think is a shame because the dry, dusty interior is absolutely stark and stunning.   
> \- Wooloonga is a fictional town and Bird’s Nest Station is a fictional farm.


End file.
